Harry Potter and the Goblin King :
by CloakedStoat
Summary: A Harry Potter/Labyrinth crossover. Please, please read and review -- critical comments welcome. First two chapters are re-edited, third and fourth chapters are new.
1. Prologue

Harry Potter and the Goblin King Notes: Before it ever had its proper beginning, and while it is still, no doubt, not quite what it could be, this fic owes it's life to my friend the Fruzer. He asked me one day how many Harry Potter/Labyrinth fanfictions I'd come across, and at that point I'd never seen any. The idea stuck fast in my brain, and so begins my first attempt, either at Harry Potter fic, or at Labyrinth fic.   
Critical evaluations are eagerly accepted, as are comments in general. I dislike flames, but accept that even in such a small beginning as this, they cannot be completely unexpected. In any case, on with the show? 

**Harry Potter and the Goblin King**

  


_Prologue_

or

_Invitation_

"Absolutely not." The man with the white-blond hair turned away from his guest, to look blandly out a window. 

"Come now, think of the entertainment of it all." 

"Entertainment? I find human magic vastly dull, as you should well recall." 

"You find it more entertaining to sulk here?" 

Turning briskly from the window, he queried in a bored voice, "How _is_ your brother doing these days Albus?" 

The guest refused to be dissuaded "He's quite well, actually. All the better for the fact that he's never spent years pining away if he's lost at something." 

The blond man's jaw tightened, and he tugged on his left glove, as though to make certain it was secure. "I am unaware of what you could possibly mean." 

"Such a pity." Dumbledore said, aware that it was a favored saying of the man he was visiting. 

"I have given you my answer, Dumbledore. I suggest you leave my castle." 

"Only a year, Jareth. Is that such a terribly long time? A chance to get back in touch aboveground, without dealing with too many Muggles?" 

"I have personally sworn off human relations, as that fool Mockridge could easily have told you." 

It seemed a wise moment to switch tactics, a notion Dumbledore was perceptive of. "Imagine his face if, after the last time you barred him from your kingdom, you began teaching in his back yard." 

"No." 

Dumbledore turned toward the door. "It was never like you to back down from a challenge, Jareth. But it is your decision." Without warning, he Disapparated. 

Jareth scowled, and kicked a small pig-faced goblin across the room. 

***

Several weeks later, Professor Dumbledore walked into his office to find Jareth sitting on the desk, looking for all the world as if he belonged there. "Hm? Changed your mind, did you," the Headmaster asked. 

"There is something I need for you to do." 

"Is there now?" 

"There is a a boy. Quite brilliant, and well ahead of his peers. I need you to bring him here." Jareth made the request sound no more involved then cleaning off a shelf. 

"What year is he?" 

"Ah, the difficult part. He's an American. Their system missed him; but he has gotten plenty of private instruction. He's quite young, but I'd say he knows as much as your fifth-years. If not more." 

"Jareth--" 

Jareth interrupted with a sneer. "Do you want me to teach, or not?" 

Dumbledore walked around his desk, reaching out to greet Fawkes. "I was only going to say that he will no doubt find it difficult, but I can understand your desire to set things right. The Williams boy will be taken care of." 

Jareth stood, looking with bland disinterest out the window. "How ever did you know it was the Williams boy." 

Dumbledore smiled warmly. "I know you, Jareth. You know when the term begins, I assume you remember enough of us here to manage your own affairs?" Turning from Fawkes, he found Jareth had vanished. Dumbledore smiled again in his empty office. Things were turning out better then he had hoped. 

~~~ 


	2. The Arrivals

Harry Potter and the Goblin King Notes: Well then. After an entirely unreasonable delay (which I say "I'm sorry" for from the depths of my heart), here we have the first "real" chapter of this little story. It's not exactly a long chapter -- something else I feel I should say I'm sorry for. I usually don't like things as well that are short chapters. But try as I might, this didn't want to be any longer.   
Hopefully I'll manage to put another chapter up within a day or two. All that said, I want to give a huge thanks to everyone who reviewed the prologue to this peice.   
Also: Whoever it was that e-mailed me about archiving this... please e-mail me again? I had a bit of a problem, and lost the e-mail before I could respond. 

Disclaimer: (this would be the part I forgot in my first posting) I don't own them. Everybody is already claimed except for the students I mention as being sorted before Toby. They're mine, I suppose, except Talcott, who owns himself, and Mr. Diedrick, who also owns himself. Please don't sue me, I have nothing except a lot of plastic toys and a copy of Black & White. 

**Harry Potter and the Goblin King**

  


_The Arrivals_

or

_A Sort of Welcome_

For the first time since he had begun his time at Hogwarts, Harry Potter found himself seated, on time, with no truly remarkable or unpleasant happenings having occurred between boarding the Hogwarts Express at King's Cross Station, and settling in to watch new students be sorted. It seemed there was nothing to keep him from enjoying the welcome feast. He was sitting, of course, with Ron and Hermione. Around them, speculation ran high as to why there was an empty seat next to Professor Dumbledore. 

"After all the trouble there's been, I wouldn't be surprised if even Dumbledore couldn't talk anyone into taking the DADA position," said Hermione. In the trio's experience, Hogwarts had never been able to keep a teacher for the Defense Against the Dark Arts class for more then two semesters at a stretch. 

"Snape would take it in a second. It would be getting someone creepy enough to replace him for Potions that's the hard part," Ron said. 

Looking carefully over the teachers, Harry noticed that Snape looked -- as always -- unhappy. As if aware he was being studied, the professor turned, noticed Harry, and began to look in even more ill humor. "Snape'd be happy -- happy as he could get, anyway -- if Dumbledore had let him have it. It's probably another Auror. Been detained tracking down some Voldemort supporters or some such thing." His friends, and indeed every other Gryffindor within earshot cringed. Hearing the Dark Lord's name made them more uncomfortable now then it ever had in the past. The idea that He-who-must-not-be-named might be up and walking was enough to make anyone's skin crawl; no one wanted to have to entertain the notion. 

Before Harry could apologize (though he did not feel he should have to), the new students began to file in for sorting. The battered hat was placed upon the three-legged stool that was ever its place of honor. A hush fell over the room. Teachers and older students waited eagerly for the hat's wisdom; new students merely waited -- nervous -- for whatever was supposed to happen next. 

A long tear near the hat's brim opened, and the hat began to sing: 

_North or South   
East or West   
As anyone should know,   
Those students here   
At Hogwarts   
Call one of four their home.   
Bold and brave   
Like northern wind   
Some live in Griffindor;   
But sly and smooth   
As Southern vine   
Would love Slytherin more.   
In the East   
The sun works hard   
Like those in Hufflepuff;   
And to the west   
The clever moon   
Likes Ravenclaw enough.   
But how to know   
Which house to choose   
For students new to all?   
That's my job,   
As Sorting Hat,   
I get to make the call.   
Just settle down,   
And put me on   
I'll see where you'd go best;   
I've not been wrong,   
Not once you see,   
So put me to the Test!_

As Allendale, Mary nervously approached the hat, Ron leaned close to Harry. 

"Must have been a more exciting summer then usual," he said. "That wasn't as good as last year's song." 

Hermione hissed at both of them to be quiet, drawing more attention away from Diedrick, David then might have been without her efforts. From the staff table, Hagrid smiled at the three of them. Then he mouthed something that looked suspiciously like "Wyverns." 

"Did he just--" 

"No he didn't, Ron." Harry whispered quickly. "Don't even think it." 

Starr, Talcott was just sitting down to be sorted when Hermione suddenly leaned across Harry so she could speak to both boys. "I still can't figure out why there weren't any new DADA books on the list for this year." 

Ron scooted closer to his friends, to make it easier for the three of them to keep talking without disturbing anything. "You think we're just going to get out of it? I'd rather just get out of Potions." 

Harry shook his head. "Not with Vold -- er, not with You Know Who around. They've got to have a DADA class, at least for the first years." He gestured to the shortish, dark haired boy now making his way toward the Ravenclaw table. The thought was a sobering one, and the three friends sat quietly through the rest of the sorting. 

The trio was a bit surprised when Dumbledore stood as if to address the Hall before the Sorting Hat had been cleared away. Idle chatter quieted as the Headmaster began to speak. "There is one more student who needs to be sorted. A Transfer student--" Dumbledore cut himself off as the room started chattering again, wondering if it was someone from Durmstrang or Beauxbatons. While Hermione and Harry shared a look of surprised, Ron shut his eyes and feverishly whispered something to himself. When the din had been given a moment, Dumbledore cleared his throat and began speaking again. "I expect that no matter what the house he is put in, he will be treated as one of our own. I especially hope the fifth-years will keep a watch on him, as he will be studying with them. In any case, perhaps you can all learn a bit about the way American wizards do things." 

Harry nudged Ron hard in the ribs. "Relax," he whispered. "It's some Yank, not Krum." 

Ron sighed with relief, then scowled. "I wouldn't have cared if it was Viktor stupid Krum," he insisted. Hermione glared at him, and he hastily shut his mouth without saying anything more. 

Harry frowned at the two of them. "I think he graduated anyway." 

The three turned in their seats, along with everyone else, to get a look at their transfer student. A boy with straw-colored hair nervously stepped toward the hat, even as Professor McGonagall was calling, "Williams, Toby." As he picked up the hat, and placed it on his head, the murmering started anew. 

"He hardly looks old enough to be a first-year," muttered someone. 

Another voice commented that, "I hope he's not in our house; I wanted to win the cup this year." 

The quiet voices were just starting to reach an unacceptable volume when the hat announced, "Gryffindor!" 

Toby hurriedly made his way to the Gryffindor table. The Sorting Hat was cleared away, and the hungry students turned their eyes again to their Headmaster. 

Looking absently around the room, Dumbledore cleared his throat. "There is someone else I would have liked to introduce to you. Unfortunately, he does not seem to have--" something down the hallway caught his eye, causing an abrupt change in discourse. "Ah, here he is now." Professor Dumbledore settled back into his seat, leaving the students as confused as ever. 

There was a tinkling of nonexistent bells, and a snowy owl larger then Hedwig flapped gracefully into the hall. It landed in front of the staff table, and slowly became a lithe man with white-blond hair. 

"An Animagus," Hermione gasped. 

Ron scowled, muttering, "Great Merlin. He looks like a Malfoy." 

"Look," said Harry mildly, "the American's fainted." 

~~~ 

Thank you for reading. It would make my day exponentially better if you reviewed, but you don't have to. I know how it is. 


	3. Settling in...

Harry Potter and the Goblin King Notes: Again I seem to have delayed far longer then I should have between chapter postings. There is little excuse to be made, and I will not even resort to blaming FF.N outages for my lack of posting. I apologize for the delay. On the positive side, I've had a chance to edit the first two sections of this piece, gather a bit of input, and work on these new chapters. 

Disclaimer: Fanfiction = I am making no profit, writing about characters, settings, and in some cases situations which I did not create, and do not own. I mean no disrespect to those who hold the rights to the material I write fanfiction around. I certainly can make no claim to the non-original material found herein. 

**Harry Potter and the Goblin King**

  


_Settling in..._

or

_"Not Exactly"_

Harry was having a game of chess with Ron in the Gryffindor common room when the American boy walked in, presumably having come from the hospital wing. Hermione jumped up from behind her well-worn copy of Hogwarts, a History, and quickly succeeded in dragging Toby over to the chessboard. "Are you OK?" she asked him. "I'm Hermione. This is Ron." She pointed, then turned the direction to Harry. "And he's Harry. Your name is Toby, right? You're in our year now." 

Toby took a moment to gape at Harry -- his eyes making the familiar flash up to the scar, confirming the identity -- then he remembered to speak. "I'm supposed to be with the fifth-years, so if that's you then I guess yeah. They said my trunk would be here?" 

Hermione grabbed Ron by the arm, and pulled him to his feet. "I'm sure Ron and Harry need to unpack too. They can take you up to your dorm." 

Ron pulled his arm away from her. "I'm sure he can handle it on his own," he muttered. 

"But he shouldn't have to. He's new." 

"What are you, his mother?" 

Not wanting his two best friends to start a full-scale argument on the first night back, Harry quickly stood up himself. "Let's just help out, Ron. Neville's probably done tripping over things up there by now." Pulling Ron away from Hermione, he gestured for Toby to follow them. Together the three headed up the stairs to the door marked "Fifth Years." 

There were six beds now, lined opposite each other, three to a wall. When they entered the room, they saw Neville sitting in the window, looking out over the grounds. As they walked in, he stood up. "I'm Neville Longbottom," he said mildly, "You fainted." 

"My name is Toby, not 'you fainted.'" Toby was slowly turning an unflattering shade of angry pink. 

"Oh." Neville blinked, then brushed past them, going for the stairs. "I'll go and... and see if I can find Dean, then." 

Finding his trunk and abruptly flinging the lid open, Toby muttered to himself. "Here a few hours, and I'm already the screw up. Great." 

"Er, why did you faint, anyway?" Harry sat down on top of his own trunk, watching the new boy sorting through various school and personal things. 

"Yeah," said Ron. "Afraid of owls?" 

"No," he said, turning to conjure a shelf above the head of his bed. 

"People who look like Malfoys?" Ron took a step forward, reaching to help the boy take things out of the haphazardly packed trunk to be sorted. 

"What's a Malfoy?" 

Harry scowled. "You'll find out. So what made you faint?" 

"I don't know. That professor just looked really familiar, somehow, then I... just blacked out." Turning around, he jumped at Ron. "Put that _**down**_!" 

Ron looked up from the battered, red-bound book. "What, family Grimoire?" 

Snatching the book out of Ron's hands, Toby turned a peculiar shade of pink, as though he was blushing and paling at the same time. "It - not exactly." 

"What is it then?" 

"Just... never mind," said Toby. "I can take care of this; why don't you guys go back to your game or something?" 

"I was just trying to help." Ron said. "Not my fault if you didn't warn me not to move a book." 

"C'mon," Harry said as he stood back up. "Hermione can't be mad at us for doing as we're told, can she?" 

Nodding agreement, Ron followed him back to the common room. Hermione looked up from her book as they entered. "Done already?" 

"Ordered away, actually." Ron frowned as he sat down in an overstuffed armchair. 

"What did you do?" 

Ignoring her question, Ron settled himself back into the chair. Harry sat down on the couch. "Ron picked up some kind of family book or something; Toby got upset and told us to leave." 

Either of them could swear Hermione's ears perked up at the sound of the word 'book.' "Was it a Grimoire," she asked. 

Harry shook his head. "That's what Ron figured, but somehow I don't think so." 

Ron suddenly leaned forward in his chair. "You don't reckon it's some kind of dark spellbook, do you? He could have been sent to spy for them!" 

"Ron," said Hermione with a frown, "If he worked for the other side, the Hat would have put him in Slytherin. I don't think it can be talked out of a decision." 

Harry suddenly found a stray thread on the sleeve of his robe to be very interesting. It was quite hard to forget that the Sorting Hat had tried to put him in Slytherin. Still, it hadn't insisted… The transfer student couldn't be too bad and still have gotten into Griffindor, could he? 

"Harry - Harry are you alright?" 

He looked up to see Ron and Hermione both studying him. "Hm? Oh, I'm fine. Why?" 

Ron shrugged. "You kind of... drifted off." Hermione nodded agreement. Both of them were still staring at him as though they expected Harry to double over in pain at any moment. 

Harry stared back at both of them. "I'm fine. The scar is fine." 

As his friends continued to stare at him. Hermione gently ventured, "You'd tell us if it wasn't, wouldn't you?" 

Harry grunted, and stood up. "It's late. I'm going to bed." He stood and headed toward the boys' stairs. 

Ron stood to follow him, but Hermione shook her head. Shrugging, Ron sat back down. "Exploding Snap, then?" 

***

When Harry walked back into the dormitory, he saw Toby was now busily arranging things on the shelf he'd conjured. If the evening had been going differently, he might have spoken, but as it was, he merely flopped down on his own bed. 

Toby looked over at him. "I'm sorry I yelled. I shouldn't have. My sister - she's always telling me to try and make as many friends as I can. I guess I've blown that here already." 

Harry rolled his eyes and sighed. "I'm not sure it's always worth it," he said. Then he frowned; as soon as he'd said it, he knew he didn't mean it. Ron and Hermione meant well. They were only trying to look out for him, just as the three of them had nearly always looked out for each other. "OK, they're worth it. But it doesn't seem like it." He smiled, even though the happy exhaustion of returning to school was beginning to take hold. "So... you've got a sister?" It wouldn't hurt to try to get back on the right foot. 

Toby closed his trunk and sat down. "Sarah. She's great." 

"Is she a witch?" 

"Not exactly. She's magical, but I'm not sure I'd call her a witch." 

"What do you mean?" Harry sat up again. Exhausted or not, this could be intriguing enough to give him at least a second wind. 

"Well she doesn't do things, make things happen, or anything. But she... she's just not muggle. Not like Mom and Dad, anyway." He shrugged. "So... uh, are you really him?" 

Harry rolled his eyes, and fell back onto his bed again. "Yes, I'm The Boy Who Lived. Yes, I have the scar - you've already seen it. Yes, Voldemort is still trying to kill me. No I don't cry myself to sleep at night. And no, I'm not deranged -- although for Rita Skeeter, I might almost be willing to make an exception." Toby opened his mouth, but before he could say anything - even an apology - Harry started to pull shut the drapes around his four-poster. "Goodnight," he said as he finished. Not even having bothered to change into pyjamas, Harry was asleep within five minutes, lulled by the quiet sounds of Toby continuing to shuffle his things into their new places. 

~~~ 

If you're so inclined, please leave a review in the little box.   
It's quite nice to be able to tell if people are enjoying the story. 


	4. That First Morning

Harry Potter and the Goblin King Notes: As I said, at least I had a chance to work on some new material in too-long juncture between posts. Imagine my surprise when I realized I'd written two chapters, rather then one. 

Disclaimer: I certainly wish that I owned the rights to Labyrinth. Or to Harry Potter. I don't, though. And no matter how much my little heart might want to, I can't even try to lay claim to them. So since I'm not making any money on this, here's hoping that no one decides to do something extreme, like sue. I don't really have much that could be taken away as compensation, y'know? Just some trading cards and some plastic toys. 

**Harry Potter and the Goblin King**

  


_That First Morning_

or

_The Introduction Continues_

Lush red drapes parted just as the morning sun was striking the Hogwarts grounds. Having been to sleep before anyone else in the dormitory, Harry was now the first one awake. He stumbled through the morning routine, glad of the quiet. With luck, everything would be back to normal by lunch. 

Normal... insomuch as the wizarding life could be called 'normal,' this year hadn't been so far. Harry had suffered the entire summer with his muggle relatives, this year without even the relief of a trip to Diagon Ally - Dumbledore had insisted he was safest not leaving Privat Drive. Harry had ended up owling the Weasleys to ask Ron's mum to take money out of his Gringott's account and buy his school things. 

Then there had been the ride aboard the Hogwarts Express. Hermione had spent the entire ride buried in a book. She'd hardly spoken to them, and when it was suggested she was upset about not having been named a prefect, she had hotly denied it - even Ron had dropped the issue. 

Still, things had been close to what passed for normal. And the first new potential mystery of the term - Toby Williams - seemed to be non-threatening enough. Of course, there was the now-familiar wondering about the DADA instructor. Every year the same, rumors would be flying as soon as the first class had been held - if they weren't already. 

By the time he was headed down to breakfast with Ron and Hermione, it felt as though the old routine was on its way back. Toby appeared and sat with to them, wary of the other fifth-years, who he'd talked to even less then the intrepid three. 

Harry smiled to himself as the groggy morning chitchat sounded around him. The smile broadened at the sounds of surprise from many first years, as the post owls came swooping into the room. A large, semi-official owl carrying Hermione's copy of the Daily Prophet. A frazzled looking screech owl coming to give Neville a fair-sized package from his Gran. And something... black? A dark, glistening bird amid the tawny, grey, and white mass of owls. As Harry watched, it swooped lower, and closer. 

With a stately flutter of obsidian wings, the large raven settled itself on Toby's shoulder. Bobbing its head twice, the bird elegantly extended a leg, allowing Toby to untie the small scroll tied there. 

Toby's face had lit up as the bird approached, and now his eyes sparkled as he began to detach message from messenger. "Good morning Gavin! Glad only to have come from London?" Gavin bobbed his head a few more times, then cocked it slightly to the side, observing the people who were staring at him. Still smiling, Toby held a strip of bacon up to the bird, who immediately began to munch contentedly at it. 

"He's beautiful," exclaimed Hermione. "I've never seen anyone use a corvid for post before." 

Ron too, seemed impressed. "'S because they're hard to work with. Usually too curious for their own good. How'd you train him, Toby?" 

Toby reached up and smoothed the feathers on Gavin's back. "Well... he's more my sister's then mine. But he gets along with me OK, don't you Gavin?" 

Having finished his bacon, Gavin seemed to bow, glanced around at the other receding post-birds, and suddenly took wing, following the flurry of student-owned owls out of the hall. 

Harry, Ron and Hermione looked on as Toby now opened the scroll, which was in fact two pieces of parchment, rolled tightly together. He glanced at the second, set it aside as if of little importance, then began to read the letter. After he seemed to finish looking it over for a second time, Ron spoke. 

"So, news from home then?" 

Toby looked up. "Well, not quite news, and not quite from 'home,' but yeah. Just a letter from Sarah, and a written list of her usual 'sisterly advice,' complete with warnings that hardly make sense." 

His new friends nodded. All of them thought briefly of the motherly lecture Mrs. Weasley had once again left them with as they'd prepared to board the train. The moment was broken as schedules were handed out, and the first small groups of people stood, ready to leave the hall. 

"Good morning." Ginny had come over from farther down the table, where she'd been catching up with her friends. Now standing behind Ron, she scanned his schedule. "Looks like you guys get the first crack at figuring the new professor out." She pointed, and surely enough, their first class was Defense Against the Dark Arts, with Ravenclaw. "Speaking of, where is he?" The others looked between each other; now that she mentioned it, they hadn't seen him at the Staff table with the other professors as they arrived, and he certainly wasn't there now. 

Hermione shrugged. "I'm sure we'll find out soon enough." Then she pointed at Toby. "Ginny, this is Toby. Toby, Ginny." 

Ginny smiled, and shook hands. "I'm Ron's sister" 

"Well, well," drawled a cool voice. "The Weasels, Buck-Tooth and Potty have started a babysitting service." At the scattered Slytherin chuckles that followed, the voice continued. "Didn't the Yank schools offer cheap enough daycare?" 

Harry rolled his eyes. "Shove off Malfoy." 

For his part, Toby looked as though the only thing keeping him from rushing his apparent new adversary was the visage of the goons flanking him. That, and the restraining hands Ginny and Hermione had hurried to place on each of the boys. 

"Just introducing myself, Potty. Don't burst your precious Scar - how ever would your adoring fans pick you out of a line then?" He turned to Toby. "Draco Malfoy, most assuredly _not_ at your service." He sneered, and then left, cronies in tow. 

"That," announced Ron, unnecessarily, "was a Malfoy." 

Hermione picked up her bag. "Come on," she said. "We don't want to be late for the first class of the year." 

~~~ 

Comments, critiques, reviews of any kind -- these are the trinkets I ask you to place in the little box. Please? 


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